How to Fly with a Broken Wing
by BlueRaven666
Summary: William X Sebastian. William finds himself with the task of helping Sebastian after the demon breaks one of his wings and is completely abandoned by Ciel. When feelings begin to develop beween the two, all Hell breaks loose and Satan has a price on Sebastian's head. When the devil is alwasy watching, how do you hide? Where can you escape? WARNINGS: SAD Charcter death PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I wish I could say that I despised the vermin known as demons. But I've come to realize that you can't really hate what you help, in the long-run. I'll admit I've given the demons more than their fair share of grief, thanks to my bitter distaste and hypocritical views, but I can't say that I regret doing what I did.

Before I met Sebastian Michaelis, I did truly hate demons. They weren't like us with ethics and morals, and thank the gods they weren't like angels; obsessed with the purification of human souls and discarding the world's filth. They'd wipe out their own kind, if that were the case. No, demons were sort of their own category, much like humans were. They acted like animals when they weren't tamed, but there were some that were extraordinarily talented at human feats, like playing an instrument without breaking it, or dancing without leaving footprints in a hardwood floor.

Sebastian Michaelis was a combination of all these things, and more. He acted like an animal, every once in a blue moon, but he could play any given song on a violin and dance better than any man could ever hope to accomplish. He could do something in five minutes that would take the average human five years to do equally as well, but those aren't the reasons why I wound up falling in love with him.

I fell in love with him because I was stupid. I let my conscience come before my work and just like that; **_boom_**, head-over-heels! What's so wrong with me loving a demon? I'm a Grim Reaper, and Grim Reapers are supposed to hate demons, and vice versa. Of course, I wouldn't be the only one. One of my fellow co-workers was just as madly in love with Sebastian as I; only I was able to do a much better job at keeping my true feelings hidden, which might have been one of the reasons things happened as they did.

But how, exactly, does a Grin Reaper fall in love with a demon? Does it take getting nearly killed, as what had happened to Grell Sutcliff? Does it take the sexual interest Ashe Landers held? Does it take good looks? Charm? A love potion or a spell?

For me, all it took was a broken wing.

You see, every demon takes after some sort of animal, element, or living thing that they're able to strongly represent. Sebastian was a crow demon and had been living with a large nest of demons at the time.

And I suppose that's where this whole mess started.

* * *

><p>I hated work. No, I <em>really<em> hated work; and I especially hated working with Grell.

"Can we hold hands, William? Let's take some time off together, William! Can we stop at the Phantomhive Manor, on the way, William?"

"No, no, and definitely _not_," was always my response. I'll admit the offer to take some time off sounded very attractive, to me. But with Grell? No way. I'd rather work.

We were supposed to be reaping the souls of a nest of demons that resided in an abandoned warehouse, which was why I really _hated_ work. Demon souls put up a fight before they were forced to pass on, and it was never an easy task to take on with my death scythe. It was also the reason why I was with Grell. He loved to use his death scythe on demons (as Sebastian Michaelis would know all too well) and if nothing else, he would serve as the perfect distraction to the filthy vermin while I did my work. The To-Die List stated that the demons would burn to death. What a joke. Creatures that came from a place of fire and brimstone couldn't burn to death, could they?

It's incredible to believe how wrong I was. As expected, the warehouse we were sent to was burning to the ground, and I could already see the reels of Cinematic Records rising up from within the smoke. Unless there were humans being held captive, there were demons burning to death.

Several escaped just by running out the front entrance to the building. I recognized one of them as Ciel Phantomhive. Hmm, funny . . . If that earl is there, then his pain-in-the-arse butler shouldn't be far behind. However, Ciel didn't seem to be at all concerned as to where Sebastian Michaelis was. He only looked straight ahead of him and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

What happened after that was just routine. I reaped the souls of three demons; none of which were Sebastian, and Grell had yet to pitch a fit over the butler in some way. He hadn't seen anything from him either.

It wasn't until the fire went out and I started to look around that I finally saw him. He was the same as ever; black hair, pale skin, red eyes. The only difference in his appearance that I could see from as far away as I was were the pair of gigantic black wings that were folded across his back

I could tell there was something wrong with him. He was sluggish. One wing was functioning just fine, but the other just hung there, like it didn't work.

Curious, I bounded down to where he was. He looked like he was trying to fly, but his one wing wasn't cooperating. It hung at an oddly painful angle. It was broken.

"Well, this is a shame, "I commented, "Who knew demon bones could break?"

Sebastian seemed to get irritated by my comment, "Laugh it up, Reaper. But I assure you, my wing is fine; it's just a little stiff, that's all."

"I've never seen a stiff limb bend at an angel like _that_."

"It's fine."

"Alright, then let's see you fly."

Sebastian made an irritated sound and stood himself straight. He took off at a sprint and flapped his wings. It looked like he was about to prove me wrong and take off into the air, but his one wing failed him and he dropped like a stone; skidding across the ground.

"Okay . . ." he moaned, "Maybe I'm not-so-fine."

Some part of me began to feel sympathy for Sebastian. It was like I was picking on the weak, and technically I was. A downed demon is a dead demon, even if they could handle themselves as well as Sebastian could.

"I could help you," I offered.

"No, thank you. I'll be fine."

I let out a sigh, "The way I see it, you have no other option. Either you let me help you, or you take the risk of me having to collect your soul later. Other immortals will surely take advantage of your weakened state. Now, are you going to let me help you, or not?"

Sebastian seemed to be torn. Of course, any other demon would have refused, regardless of their circumstances and odds of survival. But I had known Sebastian for being more indifferent towards my kind. He wasn't your average demon that caused havoc and liked to scare the religious people or tempt the innocent into doing dark or dirty deeds. He wasn't the typical demon.

"Very well," he finally said, "I'll go."

I was somewhat relieved by his response. That would be one less demon I didn't have to wrangle the soul out of. There was just one problem I was faced with.

What on earth was I going to do with an injured demon?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

One moment I was reaping the souls of a bunch of demons, the next moment I'm back at my apartment in London, figuring out exactly how this is supposed to work. I've mended the wings of pigeons before; however, Sebastian's wings were ten-thousand times larger. I could reposition the bone and I wrapped the area in thick layers of gauze wrapping, but in terms of an official cast or sling for the feathery limb I was clueless as to where I should to start.

Sebastian lay perfectly still as I worked, and he barely made a sound as I reposition the damaged wing. He'd inhale sharply through his nose every so often, but that'd be the only indication that he felt any pain. I idly wondered how much pain this injury must have been causing him. Whether he had a high threshold for pain or not, I was sure that this had to be hurting him in some sort of way.

I slowly began to form a cast around his wing; wrapping layer upon layer of gauze and cloth around the limb. The sling was difficult to shape. With a pigeon, there were no extra limbs to get in the way. With Sebastian, it was his arm and shoulder. Bringing the sling under that arm might not only cause him discomfort, but it could also disturb the healing process. The healing process in demons was extremely delicate and everything that happened could mean the difference between a full recovery and an eternity with a handicap. Bringing this sling over the arm, however, might not even give the limb any support. The fractures were in the ulna and humerus bones of the left wing.

It's times like this when I go for a Plan B. I positioned the wings so it was in its natural position; folded beside the right wing across Sebastian's back. At the bend of the wing, I slipped the sling under it and brought the ends of it to the opposite side of the demon's neck. At just the right amount of support, I tied the ends of the sling together. It definitely wasn't like mending the wing of a pigeon, or even a common raven, but it wasn't a cruel torture device that would leave Sebastian in horrible pain day after day.

Sebastian sat up, testing the support the white cloth of the sling for himself. It held up perfectly. It wasn't my best work, but it was still a success. The questioned still remained, though; what was I going to do with an injured demon? I couldn't just send him back into the world with his wings exposed. People would know what he was, and with demons that could cause a panic. That's the last thing this world needed; another witch-hunt for the demons lurking about. Believe it or not, demons do have a significant importance in this world. I think I'll be the first of my kind to admit that without demons there would be triple the paperwork involved with reaping a soul that belonged in Hell. Those souls wouldn't even be able to pass on. In other words: paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork.

I thought back to when the warehouse was burning. I had seen Ciel Phantomhive run out of there with practically no concern for his butler's welfare. And here sat Sebastian with the blankest look on his face, as if he was miles away; his mind playing with a dangerously awful thought.

"If it means anything," I spoke up, "I can find your master and let him know you're all right."

"Don't bother. He wouldn't care anyways."

That response was the only indication that he'd heard me. The expression on his face didn't change, he spoke in monotone, and his straight-back-perfect posture was ruined by an ungraceful slouch and sagging shoulders.

"Wouldn't care? Why wouldn't he care that you survive a fire that killed over ten other demons? You escaped with just a broken wing."

That one sentence seemed to pump life back into n body, but not at all in the way I had wanted it to. He looked enraged. A rough hand gabbed onto my suit and jerked me forward.

"_Just_ a broken wing? You don't understand at all, do you? I'm crippled; possibly for the rest of my life. And even if it _does_ heal, it's prone to fracture, now." He released his grip, "And . . . as for that brat, he left me to die in that building. He didn't so much as look for me or check to make sure I wasn't dead. He just left. He doesn't want me. Heck, he's the reason my wing is broken in the first place!"

"I fail to see how a puny child could cripple an experienced demon, such as yourself."

Sebastian shrugged, "A good flick of the wrist is all it takes, no matter what the age."

It was at this moment that my pity started to sink in and I started making stupid decisions. I was supposed to be a wall; unfeeling and unaffected by the struggles and hardships of others. But seeing a demon with this bad of a blow taken to his pride. It was just sad. For once, I wanted to deal with the cocky, smart-mouthed, stubborn Sebastian that could kick Grell's arse any time of the day, and look like a little kid in a candy store when he was slaughtering an army. Here I was, dealing with a shell of that demon that was cursed with a broken wing.

How could Ciel Phantomhive not care that his butler was alive and in this sort of condition? I had watched Sebastian risk life and limb for him—mostly because Ciel was still a human with a soul, and to Sebastian that meant 'dinnertime'. Was it because Ciel was now a demon that they didn't care about each other? Did nothing matter to him anymore? No, that couldn't be it. I had seen the earl genuinely concerned about Sebastian before. There had to be some other reason.

"I suppose you'll be confining me to this apartment until my wing's healed?" Sebastian piped up.

"Well, I cannot allow you to run about looking like that," I stated, "You'll be burnt at the stake by sundown. Once you're able to hide your wings, I will leave you to do as you please."

"Do as I please?"

Well now, that didn't come out right, at all, "Stay here, go back to the Phantomhive manor or the warehouse; I don't care, so long as you're not the reason for an extra-large stack of paperwork on my work desk, at some point, do as you please."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, "I never thought you'd be the one to say that. I'll be honest, I'm surprised you even decided to help me and that you're not drop-kicking me out the door and burning the bed sheets."

What did he think I took him for, the plague? Okay, so he was a demon and started the Black Death in Europe; that was over 500-years ago.

"I think I'd only do that if you were Grell," I said, "He always leaves something red behind when he waltzes in here."

I heard Sebastian chuckle, "Nasty . . ."

"Okay, now I'm about to drop-kick you out, you pervert!"

"You said it, not me."

I guess this is one of the top things I hate about demons; they have a cruel, nasty, disgusting, and perverted sense of humor, and they never passed up the opportunity to use it. But I suppose when you live a long life and you've already done everything the world has to offer, you need a sense of humor. Otherwise, you go crazy.

* * *

><p>That night, I couldn't sleep.<p>

It's just like when you're a child and you've just been told a scary story; it swims in your mind and you lie there thinking that at any moment, a monster is going to creep out of the shadows, snatch you up and take you away. This was my case, only in my case the monster was Sebastian and he was in my guest room . . . or at least _somewhere_ in my apartment, doing who-knows-what.

Yes, I was being paranoid, and yes, whatever I was thinking was going to happen wasn't going to happen, but still . . . I didn't want to fall asleep and risk it. So I just laid there. Listening. Thinking.

Ciel Phantomhive wouldn't just abandon Sebastian, Would he? And even if he did, he wouldn't be gone this long. Wouldn't he go looking for him at some point?

I had this terrible foreboding that no matter however long I waited, it was highly unlikely that Ciel Phantomhive would be pounding down my door, asking for his butler back. However, it was likely that once Sebastian's wing was healed, he would go looking for Ciel, himself; and I sensed he no held a grudge against him for the abandonment. Who wouldn't? Enslaved to a child for all eternity and his master just leaves? I'd want someone demoted for that, if not imprisoned or killed, if it'd happened to me.

Unable to sleep, I sat up and rose from my bed. I slipped on my spectacles and exited my bedroom.

To my surprise, Sebastian was sitting on a sofa in front of a coffee table, staring at a chess board. It's strange. I hadn't heard him leave his room, let alone pull out a chess board and set it up. I noticed that some of the pieces had been moved and that some of the pieces were missing. There were no queens on either side. The black kind hadn't been moved, but the white king was on one of the far edges of the board. A black knight and a white bishop sat side by side on a single square and a select few black pawns and three white pawns had been moved into positions that weren't even possible for them to be moved into. All of the pieces were in positions that weren't possible for them to be moved into.

"Can't sleep?" Sebastian asked, not batting an eye towards me.

"No, what about you?"

"Demons don't sleep."

That's right . . . demons don't sleep. Reapers were a lot like humans. We required eight hours of sleep and three meals per day to survive. Sleep was only a luxury item to demons, and for some reason I could easily imagine a demon wasting years just by sleeping, alone. And demons definitely knew what it was like to go hungry. That's why they sought out high-quality souls. The better the soul, the longer you were full.

I analyzed the chess board, "Who's the knight?"

"Me."

"Ah, and the bishop?"

"That's you."

"Why are we clustered together on one square?"

"Because we are in the same general area."

"Who's the white king?"

"Ciel."

"And the black king?"

Sebastian didn't reply. He looked at the small, black figure with an intense expression on his face. He looked scared, and I knew at that look that whoever this king was, they were a person he didn't want to deal with.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

There are a few tragic sides to this story that I'm able to recall all too well. Those wings that sat upon Sebastian's back weren't just a decoration; they served a purpose. Sebastian missed the sky; anyone with eyes could have seen that. He missed the freedom his wings gave him. To be chained to the Earth meant dealing with limits. The sky was limitless with room to move and be free, and I would watch, day after day, as Sebastian looked to the sky with a yearning for that freedom. He was in envy and in awe of the birds and the things that flew, and he desperately wanted to join them. He wanted to fly.

The sight isn't exactly an easy one to watch. A creature that I had known for being stoic, composed, exceedingly charismatic, and a big pain in my arse was now nothing more than a dark figure sitting on a windowsill dreaming of the only thing that was out of his reach. He didn't say anything about his wing or Ciel. In fact, the only conversations we'd engage in would be about the chessboard. For reasons I didn't understand, he refused to move any of the pieces and he refused to put it away. It was annoying, but after a while I just got over it. Other than that, he left me to my business and I left him to his.

There was one thing I couldn't get over, and that was Sebastian's growing depression. It was a rare sight to see him somewhere other than the windowsill in the guest room, gazing out into the city below. Every now and then the mutter of, "What a loathsome city" would float about. He was destroying himself from the inside out. I needed an idea to get his mind off of this dreary scenario, and unfortunately there was only one person I knew who probably didn't have a dreary bone in his body.

Grell.

He may be a pest and he might try to crush Sebastian the moment he sees him, but he was hardly ever down in the dumps, and surely whatever ideas he could come up with would work.

I found my red-headed co-worker in the last place I thought to look for him; in his office, at work. I would have been even more shocked if he'd been doing his paperwork work. Then again, I think I'd be a little bit concerned if he was.

Today Grell was keeping himself preoccupied by sketching a picture of Sebastian. The poorly-drawn demonic figure was apparently trying to stab Ciel with a butter knife. Strange, but not unusual. I wanted to laugh, it was so amusing, but the business-end of my emotions drowned out the amused portion of my mind.

"Grell, I need to talk to you."

Grell looked up from his artwork, his brows raised in concern, "Uh-Oh! I'm in trouble, again, aren't I?"

"No, I need your help with something."

And just like that, Grell was being his usual self.

"Oh, William! You _actually_ need _my_ help with something? Oh my, this could be fun! What do you need me to help you with, William?"

I knew what I was about to tell him would leave him doing laps around the building while reciting some random, passionate line from _'Romeo and Juliet'_, but it was a risk I was willing to take.

"Do you remember the warehouse fire we were dispatched to the other day?"

Grell nodded.

"Well, Sebastian was somewhere in that mix and he wound up breaking a couple of bones in his left wing. He's been staying in my apartment, and frankly being grounded with an injury like that is bringing him down, and I'm looking for a way to get his spirits back up."

An amused smile crawled across Grell's face, "Ah, so you _do_ have a heart, after all?"

I was going to be hearing about this for the next few months; I knew it, but for once in my life, I was desperate.

"Look," I said, "All I need is a way to get rid of the doom and gloom Sebastian's surrounded himself with. Do you have any ideas?"

I was sure Grell did a back flap, "I know! I know what will make him happy!"

And that was Grell. Any man he had feelings for he knew like the back of his hand. At least that's how he acted. I'll use myself as an example. Grell knows I'm an overtime-man and that I won't put up with his antics (as I've demoted him several times already). He knows I like pigeons and he even knows my biggest fear. As much as the fact annoyed me, there was not one thing about myself Grell didn't already know.

I allowed Grell to punch out of work early to help me with this. This was going to take a while, and with Grell who knows how long that will be exactly?

* * *

><p>"Are you serious?"<p>

This was ridiculous—impossible! But Grell seemed convinced as he set this so-called "cure" for Sebastian's depression in my hands. I half-expected him to smuggle a descent soul to him or offer him Ciel on a silver platter, hog-tied with an apple in his mouth, for him to torture. No, instead he places in my hands something that blows all of that into the dust.

A kitten. A small black and white kitten.

"Bassy loves cats!" Grell beamed, "This kitten ought to perk him up a bit."

I shrugged. It wasn't a weapon of mass destruction that would destroy my apartment and it was better than just letting Sebastian sit alone in the guest room.

"What's Plan B if this doesn't work?" I asked.

Grell shrugged, "Make him fly."

Make him fly? Whatever that was supposed to mean . . .

I entered the apartment with this kitten tucked under my arm. The chess board hadn't moved and none of the pieces had changed. I made my way to the guest bedroom and rapped against its wooden surface.

"Who is it?" a practically-dead voice called from within the room.

In a swift motion, I opened the door wide enough to slip the kitten into the room and closed it again. Leaning against the wall, I listened. I could hear the kitten mewling from beyond the door and I heard something move to where the kitten was. The mewling stopped.

Suddenly, the doorknob turned and the door opened to reveal Sebastian with the kitten wrapped in his arms. However, he looked rather indifferent about the gift; neither happy nor upset.

"You got this kitten for me?" he asked.

I nodded, "It was Grell's idea. You looked like you needed a little bit of cheering up."

Sebastian looked at the kitten and then back to me, and for the first time in the past few days, I saw him smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

I thought the kitten would make things better for Sebastian, and for a while it did. Between the chessboard and the kitten, Sebastian was genuinely happy. To kill his boredom, he'd play violin and do the housework. His butler side was starting to break through again, and he didn't have a care in the world. He even went out of his way to keep his feline friend from attacking any pigeons (what can I say? I love animals; especially pigeons).

However, it'd seem God had a cruel sense of humor when it narrowed down to making Sebastian miserable. That kitten Grell had found for him went missing two weeks after it was given to him. We searched high and low; under beds and behind furniture. I was sure it'd turn up at some point; maybe trapped in a cupboard or curled up sleeping in an overlooked chair. But it didn't happen. I half-expected Sebastian to have a panic attack, but he seemed rather relaxed about the matter; concerned, but relaxed.

But all of that was shattered when I returned from work one day and found Sebastian back in his room. I knew right then that something horrible had happened. His eyes were wide with fear. His skin was white and cold and he was huddled in a fetal position in a corner by the bed. His eyes were fixed on the closet that was in the room and the door to the closet was wide open.

"Sebastian, what's wrong?" I asked.

It was like I had just spoken to a statue. Sebastian didn't move or speak; I don't even think he breathed. He just sat there in the floor, staring into the closet.

"Sebastian, talk to me!"

No response. I decided to approach this in a different way.

"Honestly, what kind of sight could possibly faze demon scum like you?"

It wasn't the best insult to ever leave my mouth, nor was it the most insulting, but it was enough to get a reaction from him . . . an ever-so-slight reaction.

Slowly, a pale, trembling hand pointed into the closet.

Nothing my mind could have conjured up could even begin to compare to the horror that was inside there.

At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a scrap of meat hanging by a rope with blood spattered all over the inside of the closet. Looking closer at this scrap of meat, I could make out limbs and claws and teeth . . . and through the blood I could even make out patches of black and white fur. On the far wall inside the closet, the word "cripple" was scrawled in the wall with partly dried blood.

The kitten that had been given to Sebastian now hung by its neck in the closet, half skinned with its entrails extracted from its gut. The poor creature was long dead and flies and started to circle it. I felt light headed; disgusted! I could feel my stomach churn. What could have done something like this?

"Don't look at it, Sebastian!" I commanded.

Sebastian didn't react. The horrible sight of this slaughtered kitten and him completely paralyzed. He looked like he was a single gruesome sight away from vomiting, and I found that I was in a much similar position.

I closed the closet door, pushing the blood y scene out of sight. You'd think I'd be used to this; being a Grim Reaper and all and having to harvest souls from beings that died in thousands of different ways. But there's always something about a cute, innocent animal ending up like this that is terrifying enough to give nightmares.

I turned to Sebastian. My pity for him only grew as I looking into his eyes. Have you ever seen a demon cry? If you haven't, you can't imagine how awful it is. If a grown man brought to tears is just sad, then a grown male demon brought to tears can be considered beyond tragic. I watched as tears streamed down his face and he bowed his head as he sobbed.

My original thought was, "How pathetic . . ." but something inside of me was saying, "How sad . . ." and another part was saying, "I'm sorry." I strode over to him and willingly carried him out of the room; making sure not to disturb his injured wing. I set him down on the sofa in front of the coffee table; by which point Sebastian had somehow miraculously stopped crying, but he was back in his world of blank expressions and deep depression. It was then that I looked back to the chessboard and noticed that it'd changed. A black pawn had been moved one square away from the square our figures sat on; another impossible move.

"Who was it?" I asked.

A scowl appeared on Sebastian's face, "A rat. One of _his_ proxies."

"One of _whose_ proxies?"

Sebastian tapped his fingers against the black king, which still hadn't been moved from his face. He then brought an index finger to his lips, stared me dead in the eye, and silently went "shh".

"We don't say his name out loud."

Weird . . . very weird.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because, demons . . . _disappear_ when his name is spoke out loud."

Definitely weird, but—in the world of demons—logical, too. I could take one guess as to who this "black king" really was . . .

* * *

><p>I couldn't sleep that night. There was a kitten murder scene in the guest room closet and I had specifically instructed Sebastian to avoid going back in there. I knew it would only upset him further. Grell and I could clean up the mess tomorrow.<p>

Sebastian was curled up on the sofa.

This is not how things should have gone. What was I supposed to do, now? What was Plan B? 'Make him fly'? I still didn't know what that meant. What did Grell want me to do; throw him off the roof of the apartment? Catapult him across town? I don't know!

I got up from my bed and walked out of my room. I didn't bother putting my spectacles on. I could see just enough through the haze to make out the door and the shape of the sofa and the coffee table and I could even make out Sebastian sitting upright. I didn't need my spectacles to know that he had that same, blank, distant stare on his face.

I sat down next to him, "Can't sleep?"

No response.

"That's right . . . demons don't sleep. I can't sleep."

Through my extremely blurry vision, I could make out Sebastian's hand sitting on his lap. I don't know what made me do it, but sitting next to him didn't feel like enough. I reached over and took his hand into mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll get through this, Sebastian. One way or another, we'll get through this."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

That night was the first night I stayed up all night for a reason other than work. Sebastian seemed so distant that even to be near him, holding his hand didn't provoke any reaction from him. The freedom his wings gave him was gone, and now even the crutch his feline friend gave him had been taken away, as well. I wasn't sure if there'd ever be a way to bring the old Sebastian back from this monochrome abyss of harmful negative emotions he was drowning in.

Needless to say that Grell was devastated at the news of what had happened to the kitten, and he wasn't at all pleased when I practically begged him to help me clean up the horrific mess. He was disgusted by the sight; the word "cripple" being what infuriated him the most. Once the kitten's corpse was disposed of, he worked furiously to clean the writing off the wall; making sure even the slightest traces of blood were gone.

"How could someone do this to my poor Bassy?!" he hissed, "It isn't enough that he can't fly, they have to go and murder a helpless kitten in front of him, too?"

"Grell, pipe down!" I snapped, "Sebastian doesn't need to be reminded of this. It could only make things worse."

I glanced out the guest room door into the living room where Sebastian still sat. He hadn't moved at all since I'd carried him there. There was a very sad, very grey vibe to the area that surrounded him. I could make out the sling that was holding up his wing and the cloth wrappings were still bound around his ulna and humerus bones. I had yet to check them and see how they were healing. With everything that's been happening, there's been no time.

"I hope there's a Plan B," I told Grell, "I won't stand to see Sebastian destroy himself like this."

Grell hummed, "You sound like you really care about him, Will. Has nursing a demon back to health brought on _feelings_ for Sebastian?"

"Don't be absurd! I don't . . . I'm not . . . You wouldn't understand."

Grell placed his hands on his hips, "You're talking to a _lady_ who has been after this man for _years_. What _wouldn't_ I understand?"

He had a point, but I could never admit to him that I felt jealousy bite into my neck when he referred to Sebastian as _his_. I could never admit that I didn't mind holding his hand trying to comfort him. And I could **_never_** admit that sometimes . . . just sometimes, I wish he'd choose to stay in my room instead of the guest room or sofa.

Yes, I had developed feelings for a creature I heavily despised.

"Anyways," Grell continued, "I already told you what Plan B was."

"What? 'Make him fly'? I don't even know what that's supposed to mean."

Grell relieved a heavy sigh, "Will, think literally. Don't _over-think_ it."

* * *

><p>After hours of hard and disgusting work, the scene of the dead kitten just seemed like a horrible memory. The walls were completely clean of the animal's blood, the rope along with the kitten's body had been disposed of and the floor of the closet had been thoroughly scrubbed.<p>

It was no use going into work so late in the day, so I mostly spent it sitting with Sebastian, trying to think of what Grell meant by our Plan B.

"Hey, Sebastian," I finally said, "I have an idea."

His response was delayed, but he eventually replied, "What kind of idea?"

"Why don't we take a break from this dreary apartment and go outside?"

"You want to go outside?"

"Not far. I just know an excellent view of the city where we can get away from the gloom."

Sebastian hummed, but said nothing.

I stood up, "Come on, let's go."

For once, Sebastian came out of his little world of depression and looked at me, "You want me to go outside? But what about my wings?"

"No one will see them from where we'll be at. It's fine."

Reluctantly, Sebastian got to his feet and followed me out the door.

I brought him to the roof of the apartment. The wind was blowing and the sun was shining and the sky was clear. It took away some of the doom and gloom away from Sebastian as his eyes seemed to stare in wonder at the sight.

"It's like flying!" he gasped, "The wind is strong . . . the sky is completely open . . . and the sun . . . it is just like flying!"

One of his large, black wings unfolded and stretched as the breeze whipped through.

"If you think this is flying, just follow me!" I called.

Let me make one thing clear; I'm not smooth. I don't spend hours thinking of the best pick-up lines like Ronald Knox, and I'm not a romantic poetry reciter like Grell. I'm unconditionally dull. I've never tried to court anyone or be romantic. Work always came first. But . . . something about being around Sebastian and trying to get him back to his old self had me getting reckless.

I took off at a sprint across the rooftop, running as fast as I could. It didn't take long for Sebastian to catch on, because a few seconds later he took a massive leap over my head with that irking, charismatic smile on his face.

"Catch me if you can, Spears!" he chimed in a singsong voice.

Challenge accepted!

For several miles—block after block—we bounded across rooftops and soared over alleys. First I'd be ahead, and then Sebastian would take a massive leap and take the lead for a mile before falling back again; his one good wing outstretched and flapping along. It was glorious! In a way, Sebastian was really flying. The gloom he'd been shrouded in had vanished once again, and for once I didn't have to think about work.

Eventually, our race brought us out of the city and into the country, at which point we stopped.

"That. Was. Amazing!" Sebastian cried out, panting heavily, "I haven't raced like that in . . . in . . . in _centuries_! Sprinting—the wind in my face—what a work out!"

I was leaned over with my hands pressed firmly against my knees, trying to catch my breath, "I'm glad I was able to bring your spirits up."

Sebastian collapsed onto the hard, rocky earth and sprawled out on his back as he laughed.

"Up? My spirits are beyond the clouds! I've never felt more alive. Of all the stunts my wings have carried me through, they cannot even begin to compare to how I feel right now."

Before I could process it, Sebastian wrapped his arms around my waist—dropping to his knees—and hugged me close.

"I can't thank you enough . . ." he then leaped to his feet, cleared his throat, and took a step back, "I just keep rambling on, don't i? But really, thank you, William."

And that did it. Never mind the fact Sebastian was a demon and that as a Grim Reaper I was supposed to hate him. His actions had left me dumbfounded and awestruck. We had always been taught that demons were incapable of feeling emotions, but I suppose after this day I could consider that a myth. And I had officially realized something else, too . . .

I had developed feelings for Sebastian.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I can't say for certain when the official nightmare to this whole story began. I do know that if I hadn't been so careless and if I would have listened, then things would be different. I wouldn't be where I am now and the man I loved would still be alive.

I never intended to fall in love with Sebastian. I wanted to remain indifferent to his presence and just consider him to be a roommate until his wing healed and he could leave. But, once again, God's sense of humor had other plans. I tried to forget it, at first. The thing is Sebastian's very existence brought out the better side of me. I didn't feel as stressed when he was around. Him entrance into a room brought about a certain vibe that took away whatever stress work had thrown at me earlier on.

For some time, I tried to act as indifferent to his presence as I was supposed to be. I didn't try to get involved in what he did, I didn't try to start up a conversation, and I didn't let my true feelings show through my mask of indifference that I forced myself to wear. But none of that fooled Sebastian. He's smarter than everyone thought he was. He would do things that irked me, such as hiding my death scythe just before I'd need it for work (Even though I can summon it willingly, I should say it's my fault for just letting it sit around somewhere) or he'd snatch up my spectacles just as I was waking up and he'd force me to chase him blind around the bedroom for several minutes before he'd simply hand them to me. I would be seething with rage and annoyance until I saw the grin on his face, and then all of my rage would go away.

I'll be brutally honest. I thought it was cute; annoying, but cute.

He got away with certain things, too; things that should have driven me to reap his soul in any way imaginable. It'd accept meals he cooked and coffee he brewed. For all I know he could have decided to poison it or he could have done something to the food that could have landed me with some horrible parasite. He'd also sing love songs in the demon tongue. Years of fighting demons and forcing myself to listen to them allowed me to pick up on certain words. I should have ripped out his tongue for that, but instead I listened and enjoyed and later I'd find myself humming the songs when Sebastian wouldn't sing them.

But none of that could have been as big of a give-away as the night that blasted demon snuck into my room and laid beside me in bed. I heard him come into the room. I heard him walk up to the bed. I heard and felt him crawl into my bed. Even after all of that I didn't say a thing. I _let _him stay there . . . _all night_, until I woke up. I knew when I opened my eyes that morning Sebastian would still be lying beside me with that trademark smirk on his face. I didn't protest, I didn't complain, I didn't even punch him in the face; and the moment I had my spectacles on was the moment he confronted me.

"You've developed feelings for me, haven't you, William?"

I tried to play dumb, "No, what on _earth_ gave you _that_ impression?"

"If you do not have feelings for me, why do you eat the food I cook for you, when normally you'd rather go hungry? Why do you drink the morning coffee I brew, when normally you'd rather drink out of the toilet? And why on earth would you allow a vile, filthy creature, such as myself, sleep in the same bed as you?"

William T. Spears, you have officially been proven guilty of a most heinous crime; falling in love with a demon. Sebastian was right, and there was no way I'd be able to prove him wrong.

I lifted a pillow, pressed it firmly against my face, and let out a frustrated groan.

Sebastian let out an annoyingly cheerful laugh, "What was that? I couldn't quit here you; what, with your face stuffed against a pillow, and all."

I flung the pillow against his side, "Don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I can't say I haven't developed similar feelings for you, as well, because I have."

I looked at him, "For how long?"

"Ever since you first held my hand after that kitten was slaughtered."

This conversation lasted a good hour before I had to leave for work.

* * *

><p>I remember it now. It was when I returned from work that day that this whole nightmare started. Do you remember that black pawn from the chessboard; the rat? Well, he was followed by many others, and once they found out Sebastian had feelings for me, things went downhill from there.<p>

I remember coming home to an empty apartment. Sebastian wasn't there, which was unusual, and there was an eerie strangeness to the air. All of the lights were on, which I found very strange. Sebastian didn't start lighting the candles and lanterns until it started getting dark, and it was only six o'clock and still daylight. The weird energy in the room made the hair on the back of my neck stand up and goose bumps began to line my arms.

"Sebastian?" I called, "Sebastian, are you home?"

I didn't get an answer.

Do you know that feeling you get when you're in a place you've never been before? That's _exactly_ how I felt. This apartment wasn't mine. The furniture wasn't mine. Nothing here was mine. But I _knew_ it was. It just didn't seem like it.

My eyes instantly found the chessboard and I was fascinated by what I saw. The square my bishop sat on was surrounded by three black pawns and the black king. Sebastian's black knight was on the farthest point on the board, right next to Ciel Phantomhive's white king. But that's not what astounded me. The chess pieces were alive! Sebastian's black knight was a living horse; whinnying and snorting aggressively. The figure tossed its head back, opened its mouth wide, and began to viciously devour the white king until it was nothing more but a splintered, wooden stump. The horse then used its muzzle to push the king off of the board before scooting itself over two squares and stopping in front of an inactive rook.

This was impossible! Normal chess pieces didn't act like this.

The three black pawns and the black king began to move away from each other until their positions had formed a diamond, and I was in the center, and then all of the pieces stopped.

Needless to say I was unnerved by all of this. Okay, that was an understatement. I was scared; like the piss-your-pants-and-cry-for-mommy sort of scared. But it wasn't because of this enchanted chess pieces. It was because I was alone and had no clue as to where Sebastian could be.

Maybe this was a trick; some cruel prank Sebastian was somehow pulling on me. Maybe it's a test to see if I really did have feelings for him, and he went elsewhere to see if I'd try to find him.

All I can say is I wish that's what had happened.

I went to bed that night scared shitless and hungry because I my worry had ruined my appetite. I stayed awake, waiting for Sebastian come in through the door, or maybe a window, and somehow make everything all right. It's what he was good at doing. It never happened and I wound up falling asleep because of exhaustion.

I don't know how long u had slept, exactly, but I remember waking up to the sound of someone calling my name.

"William . . ."

It was musical. It was soft. I had to be dreaming.

"William . . ."

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, "Sebastian?"

I slipped on my glasses and looked around. There was no one in the room. Had I been dreaming, after all?

"William . . . Oh, _William_ . . ."

Nope, this was real.

"It's a little late to be playing games, don't you think?"

I heard someone laugh, "Come one, William . . ."

"Hold on . . . where are you?"

" . . . You'd better hurry . . ."

As I listened, I was instantly aware that it wasn't Sebastian's voice I was hearing.

I got up from my bed and followed the voice out of the bedroom, through the living room and out the door. The voice led me through various hallways, doors and stairways until I found myself on the roof of the apartment. The wind that was blowing was cold and made me shiver in the stripped pajamas I was wearing.

"Hello . . . ?" I called out, "Is anyone out here?"

I heard a loud flapping sound and a massive thump behind me. I turned around to see an enormous demon with curved horns, like those of an ox, and clawed hands. His face was full of hard features and a pair of yellow cat-like eyes glared at me from their sockets.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked. His voice was dark, cold, and frankly rather frightening.

"I can take a guess . . ." I stated, "What have you done with Sebastian? That's _my_ question for you."

"Why would you care? You're a Grim Reaper, are you not? You hate demons."

I felt my brow twitch, "I do hate demons, especially you. That doesn't answer my question. Where's Sebastian? What have you done with him?"

"Your little . . . **_friend_** . . . is fine. Though, I can't exactly say the same about the master that abandoned him and left that poor crippled bastard to die. We found the child demon in pieces a few hours ago."

The knight devouring the white king . . . how did I not realize this sooner? Sebastian had killed Ciel Phantomhive. But, if he'd left to do something that simple, why wasn't he back now? And tis demon's open insults to him only fueled my annoyance.

"What have you done with him?"

"I haven't the faintest idea . . ."

"What have you done with Sebastian?!"

There was a dark silence between us; the wind blowing in our ears being the only sound. The demon had a displeased look on his face.

"I see the rumors are true, then." He finally said, "A Reaper has developed feelings for one of my minions."


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE 10/6/2014**

_"I'm positive there is going to be a mob forming somewhere, demanding my head mounted on a spear and my skin to be turned into a rich man's rug, after this chapter. If you didn't pick up on the hint in the last chapter, then MAN, ARE YOU IN FOR A RUDE AWAKENING! This story will be over after this chapter. Thanks for reading and please feel free to follow me to get my latest updates!"_

**-BlueRaven666**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

A lot of things went wrong that night, and the very first was that I had let someone know about my true feelings for Sebastian; and not just anyone—a powerful demon, no less. Once I discovered it wasn't Sebastian, I should have just kept my mouth shut and gone to bed. I should have been the wall of emotionlessness I'd always been. I shouldn't have cared about this demon, no matter how powerful he was. But most importantly, I shouldn't have made such a big deal out of trying to find Sebastian.

"Ami wrong?" the demon asked; a disgusting sneer painting his face, "Have you really developed feelings for a demon?"

While demons were experts at lying and fooling the foolish, I was terrible at it. I couldn't have lied to save my life! I knew if I said no, he'd only poke and prod until the truth came spilling from my guts. But what would happen if I said yes? Would this demon—who was nothing short of a god—kill Sebastian? Would he punish him in some way? Or would I be the one to take the punishment?

"Let's just say that I am . . ." I said, "What would happen to me and Sebastian?"

An amused expression appeared on this demon's face. He snapped his fingers, making a loud crack that sounded like thunder blast through the air. Just then, a pair of demons flew down and landed behind him, carrying a third that was aggressively trying to break their grip. In the light of the big, bright full moon, I could see it was Sebastian they were trying to restrain. He was covered with blood that wasn't even his.

"Sebastian here might have mentioned this to you already," the demon said, gesturing to him, "Demons do not dare to speak my name aloud, because demons "disappear" if they do. My question to you, William T. Spears, is do you know my name?"

"Yes," I replied confidently.

"What is it?"

"Don't say it, William!" Sebastian hissed, "It's a trap! He's going to-"

One of the demons covered his mouth, muffling his pleas.

"You will be silent, bird!" the demon before me growled, turning away from me for a moment, "Or you'll risk an injury to your other wing!"

I looked from Sebastian and beck to the demon. Sebastian's eyes begged me not to say it.

"The black king from the chessboard . . . the way you control all of these demons like slaves; even calling them your minions. I know who you are, so I don't think your foul name needs to be said."

The demon clicked his tongue, "What a shame . . ."

In a flash, one of his massive hands clasped around my throat and he hoisted me with one arm up into the air. I was scarcely able to breathe.

"If you would have been the obedient little Reaper I've always been told you were, your life could have been spared. It is a crime for a demon to fall in love with a lowly creature, such as you. I would have had him executed instead, but this seems to me like a better punishment. The problem is out of the way and I can make my little bird's life go back to the way it's supposed to be. It will teach him a lesson, wouldn't you agree?"

My eyes strained to look at Sebastian. He was struggling in the grip of the two demons that were holding him back, desperately trying to get to me.

"Se . . . Sebas . . . tia . . . don't . . . look . . ." I choked out.

The demon drew his hand back and unsheathed five agonizingly long, razor sharp claws.

"I am Satan Lucifer, you insolent little bug!" he snarled, "May the gates of Heaven greet you with open arms."

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see it coming.

All I heard was an enraged scream laced with pain before a heard the sound of wings beating and a warm splash of fluid coated my face, but . . . there was no pain. I hadn't even been touched. All went silent around me, and slowly I opened my eyes.

Satan's hand was inches away from my chest, positioned to tear out my heart from my chest. The hand stuck out from a wall of black and was coated in blood. Downy feathers brushed past my face and to my horror I realized this wall of black had a pair of crow-like wings.

Satan's face held both shock and horror. His arm had not run through _my_ chest like he had intended, but had instead run through _Sebastian's_ chest. My love had willingly jumped in the way to save me from my terrible fate.

I felt Satan's one hand loosen its grip from around my throat, allowing me to drop to the hard surface of the apartment's roof. He pulled his hand out from Sebastian's chest and held him.

"You're a fool! Why would you do that?"

I could hear Sebastian take in a shuddering breath, "I . . . will not die . . . for lowly scum like you. I . . . I will only die for the one I truly love . . . William."

Sebastian coughed weakly and his body convulsed. A bright, blinding flash of light that was probably lighting up all of London filled the air and reels of his Cinematic Record began to bleed out of his chest. I watched in awe as the reels suddenly whipped around and plunged deep into Satan's flesh. He was the scythe that was reaping him and he was paying the price. He dropped Sebastian to the ground and howled in pain. I wouldn't put it past him. Being attacked by a Cinematic Record sucks and it hurts. There'd be no way for him to survive the Thorns of Death that this would cause.

Free and with Satan and his minions distracted, I crawled over to Sebastian.

"Hold on, Sebastian! Just hold on!"

His body jerked harshly as he coughed, ". . . Will?"

"Don't speak, just stay with me!"

"I'm . . . glad, William. I'm glad you're all right."

I rested a hand against his cheek and gave a small smile, "It's all because of you. You're the reason I'm still here. But you've got to hold on. Stay with me, Sebastian."

Sebastian lashed hung lower the weaker he became, "Never . . . stop doing that."

"What?"

"Smiling . . . Your smiles . . . They're beautiful."

I took him into my arms and brushed his black bangs out of his face, "I can think of better things to do with my mouth than that . . ."

You'll never believe it, but that was the first kiss Sebastian and I shared. Once again, I'm not smooth or great with pick-up lines, but I knew Sebastian loved it when I tried.

I'd always thought that kissing a demon would bring bad juju crashing down on top of my head, or I'd be struck by lightning; something unpleasant. It turned out to be the greatest thing I could have ever imagined. A demon's kiss brings out a certain sense of peace and happiness with a sinister twist. I sat there thinking to myself, "Why didn't I do this sooner?" Never mind the fact that it was cold, I was in pajamas, I was covered in Sebastian's blood, and Sebastian was dying in my arms. His last kiss brought a little slice of Heaven into this Hell.

Sebastian pulled back suddenly and his back arched as he began to shudder and gasp. I held his hand and held him close to me. I wanted him to know that I would always be there for him, and that I loved him.

"W-William . . ." Sebastian rasped.

"Yes, Sebastian?"

"I need to tell you . . ."

"Tell me anything. I'm listening."

"I . . . love you . . . William, with all . . . my h-heart."

I managed to smile for him one last time, because I was trying not to let him see me cry, "And I love you, too. You will never see me love anyone the way I could love you."

A smile formed at the corners of Sebastian lips, but it froze midway and every muscle fell limp as the light from his Cinematic Record began to fade and dim. I stroked his cheek and kissed him one last time, "Everything's going to be all right . . ."

And then he was gone.

* * *

><p>The night was long gone before I came out of my trance of sadness and mourning. There was a burn mark on the roof of the apartment where Satan had stood as Sebastian's Cinematic Record attacked him. By now, Sebastian's body was now drained of all warmth and was ice cold.<p>

I failed to show for work that day; no call, or anything. Who could blame me? I don't think I'll be able to stand to reap another soul after this. I'll be a laughing stock for the Grim Reapers; an outcast . . .

And I don't care. Sebastian made me feel as though he meant more to me than any job. I might live the rest of my life alone and go crazy, like Undertaker. I don't care.

Grell found me that afternoon, still on the roof of my apartment in my pajamas as I held onto Sebastian's cold body.

"William!" I heard him call out, "Is everything all right? Why didn't you come into work toda- . . . Oh my god . . ."

It was obvious to me he was taking in the scene.

"William, what happened?" he trotted up beside us and rested a hand on his cold, stiff shoulder, "I-is he . . . ?"

"Yes," I replied, "But you would have been amazed at what he did."

"What did he do?"

I shot him a look, "You're looking at the demon that struck down the almighty Satan Lucifer."

* * *

><p>Sebastian has been dead for a little over two years, now, and I remember him as nothing less than the man I loved and the demon that was able to best the devil. I have since retired from active duty, despite how young I still am. Grell visits from time to time, occasionally telling me about a new man he has eyes for. A few of my colleagues have gotten married and have started a family.<p>

I have not laid my eyes on another person. I could never love another the way I had loved Sebastian. Every now and then I'll run a hand over his violin or polish the cutlery he carried or check the time on the chain watch he had acquired from his time at the Phantomhive manor. And every great once in a while, I'd hum the tunes of the love songs he used to sing.


End file.
